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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23286493">Like a Lazy Ocean Hugs the Shore</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/slothy_girl/pseuds/slothy_girl'>slothy_girl</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Sway with Me (Hold Me Close) [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Kingdom Hearts</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Billionth Kiss, Canon Compliant, Character Study, Could cut that tension with a knife, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Introspection, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, Post-Kingdom Hearts III, Re:Mind Compliant, Reincarnation, Sora spilling his feelings literally everywhere, Sort of..., until it's not i guess</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 10:35:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,249</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23286493</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/slothy_girl/pseuds/slothy_girl</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“You’re a fucking donut,” Sora says, because he can, because Riku is and Sora wants to tell him, and he muffles a giggle into his pillow at the frog-mouthed look of sass Riku shoots him.</p><p>Riku rolls his eyes, snuggling into his own pillow until the only thing Sora can see across the expanse of the bed are the curling ends of his hair and a single, inky bright eye. “Why? Cuz I’m so damn sweet?” he asks, voice a low, tired rumble.</p><p>“You really are the sweetest,” he decides around a yawn, ignoring the way Riku’s breath hitches. “Saving me all the time, helping me all the time. Waiting for me. Donut.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Riku/Sora (Kingdom Hearts)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Sway with Me (Hold Me Close) [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1643101</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>100</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Like a Lazy Ocean Hugs the Shore</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Remember how I said the last one would probably be the end of it? Yeaaahhhhhhh, me neither.</p><p>Beta'd once by myself, but I'm tired yo. Let me know if there's anything too heinous I guess.</p><p>Title from "Sway With Me" by Saweetie and GALXARA. Funnily enough, all the titles for these works were picked out before I even knew what I wanted to write. How's that for backwards lol</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>-</p><p>“Maybe love at first sight isn’t what we think it is. Maybe it’s recognizing a soul we loved in a past life and falling in love with them again.” –Kamand Kojouri</p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>|Like a Lazy Ocean Hugs the Shore|</strong>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Sora can’t keep his hands off Riku.</p><p>He clutches at Riku’s hand as they stagger further into Scala ad Caelum, still more than a little weak in the knees despite all the energy he can feel thrumming just under his skin. Pushes into Riku’s side just to feel the way everything in him seems to light up at the contact even though it makes walking a little more difficult. In a moment of pure brilliance, he settles an arm around the taut line of Riku’s waist and fits himself into the curve, locking them into place easy as breathing, their gaits falling into something a little more balanced.</p><p>So what if they’re still wet as hell? They’re from the Islands—they’re not scared of water. It’s warm, and the sun is shining. They’ll dry just fine.</p><p>“Okay?” Riku asks, soft and concerned.</p><p>Sora grins, tugging Riku closer into his side. “As long as you’re here, I’m good.”</p><p>Riku blinks down at him, face seeping red, steps stuttered. Sora laughs in delight. This is Riku. Riku is here. His cool, suave Riku, who has always been and always will be a huge dork underneath all that projected “cool.”</p><p>Riku’s mouth twists.</p><p>Sora frowns. “What?” he asks, tightening his grip on Riku’s hip.</p><p>“Nothing,” Riku says immediately, reflex, and laughs wryly—as if he could he could ever hide anything from Sora now, like they don’t both have thousands of years’ worth of memories and seventeen—Gods, eighteen now—years’ worth of knowing each other saying otherwise. Something’s wrong and he has a pretty good idea of what. “Let’s go find somewhere to rest, yeah? I’m beat.”</p><p>He squints up at him. Riku’s got a point, for all that Sora wants to just pry it out of him right this instant. He knows all too well, after everything, in too many ways, what just leaving things alone does. Though, perhaps that’s not giving Riku, or the both of them really, enough credit. It can wait a little bit. He can be patient… sometimes. “Yeah, I guess.”</p><p>They drag themselves further into the world, passing through the empty market place. There’s no one around for all that everything looks vaguely, ominously lived in. The flowerbeds are overflowing with lovingly tended blooms. There are wares hanging up inside shop windows. Pastries and sweets, fresh and delicious smelling, line bakery cases when Sora peers through the propped-open door as they pass by.</p><p>“Creepy,” Sora mumbles and pushes his nose into Riku’s sleeve when he murmurs in agreement.</p><p>The residential district is more of the same: crowded buildings stacked one on top of the other, streets empty and disturbingly picturesque.</p><p>“Let’s try here,” Riku says, stopping in front of a perfectly nondescript, perfectly identical-to-everything-else house. At least, Sora’s pretty sure it’s a house?</p><p>The door is unlocked when Riku jimmies the handle. And yep, definitely a house.</p><p>“Hello?” Sora calls as they step inside. Only silence answers him. “Hello?” Nothing.</p><p>Riku raises an eyebrow at him, and Sora just shrugs.</p><p>What the hell? They don’t have anything to lose at this point.</p><p>Flopping to sit on the ground, Sora yanks his shoes off and can’t help the relieved groan. He goes for broke and peels his socks off too. He wiggles his toes against the smooth grain of the wood under his feet in relief. It’s nice when he can get out of them. Feels like he spends too much time wearing them; he’s gone through so many pairs over the years, wearing down the soles of his shoes and socks getting holes in the heels. He’s gotten pretty good at repairing the things to last him until they can find the right Moogle for new ones (or the Good Fairies, if they can be reached), but it’s definitely a skill he never thought he’d need.</p><p>He happens to glance up and see Riku smiling at him, almost like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it, and Sora doesn’t even try to smother the grin threatening to overtake his face in reply.</p><p>Riku shakes his head, but he also helps him back to his feet, so Sora counts it as a win all around.</p><p>They don’t spend much time poking around the main floor—what constitutes a main floor anyways. It’s literally just a living room and kitchen—just long enough to confirm there’s no one around, despite the full fridge and cupboards, the kettle steaming softly on the stove.</p><p>“This really is fucking creepy, don’t you think so, Riku?” Sora asks, palming an apple from the woven basket on the counter. It’s thick and juicy looking and red, red, red.</p><p>“Sora,” Riku says in his best “don’t make me disappointed in you” voice. It’s almost as effective as the one his mom uses—used to use, he should say. He can’t remember the last time he heard her use it. Definitely before the Islands fell. Sora sets the apple back down in the basket and pouts. He’s not really all that hungry anyway, but it’s the principle of the matter. “You’re right. It <em>is</em> creepy.” And Riku hums, thoughtful, almost sad. There’s a faraway look in his eyes, and for a second, Sora catches a glimpse of oil slick in them. Something flutters in his chest. He opens a random door just so his hands have something to do besides grab Riku and never let go. “You think this world is haunted?”</p><p>Sora pauses, head half-way in what turns out to be a pantry, blinking away the sudden amber brightness of his own eyes in the glass of some kind of spice sitting on the shelf. Thinks about the ghosts lingering in their hearts, the reflection of eyes that aren’t their own (except for how they very much <em>are</em> theirs now), the power curling calm and content under his skin—not quite as strong as he remembers it being in the not-dreams of wherever he’s been, but still pretty damn powerful—and the answering tug of a bond he can follow easily, with his eyes closed even, to Riku, strong and brilliant and breathtaking—much like the man himself. Memories glitter like glass shards in the back of his head, of what this world used to be, the ruins this entire cityscape has been built on. It’s been a beat too long, but Sora says, a little too somber, stuck on the memories himself, “I wouldn’t be surprised, all things considered.”</p><p>Sora closes the pantry door and meets the look on Riku’s face with one that is heavy and ancient on his own—can’t help crowding Riku up against the counter he’s been leaning on just to feel the way heat seems to roll off his skin. It feels like they haven’t touched in ages and Sora misses him, for all that it’s only been minutes and he’s been standing right there.</p><p>Riku’s gaze flickers between his, brows drawn. He deflates on a sigh and gives in, pushing forward into Sora’s embrace, arms locking behind his back in a long overdue hug, bending over just enough for their foreheads to touch again, like on the shore. It’s only then that Sora notices the chill creeping along his skin, the way it fades away the longer they stand there, breathing together.</p><p>In some ways, they’re standing on an edge. They’re still just two best friends who have been through all sorts of shit and only come out stronger for it, despite the odds being stacked against them in nearly every way. And Sora loves him. Has loved him, Gods, forever, probably. Realizing it may have been a relatively recent event, but in the grand scheme of things, he’s pretty sure it’s been like that all along—woven into his being, growing with him over the years. And he likes to think, he hopes—with everything Riku has done, what Riku has become, all for <em>Sora</em>, like Sora even really <em>deserves</em> that kind of devotion, that fierce loyalty, that brilliant belief, fuck—Riku loves him too.</p><p>In other ways, they are everything those Gods were and more—and that blurs things a bit.</p><p>(Because he <em>is</em> Sora, but he’s also the God.</p><p>He is both and neither, Light and Darkness, nothing and <em>everything</em>—</p><p>It’s like being caught in that world again, reliving and learning a life that once was, except for how here, now, he is undeniably himself and only himself. The ghosts may linger, in some ways—ways he’ll have to get used to, from the eyes to the raw power dripping through his veins, honey-thick and on a hair-trigger if he can’t control it, though it’s good he’s had lots of practice, hm? But they’re not actually sharing a heart the way he did with Ventus and Roxas and Xion—the heart is just… the same. Same heart. Somehow. And what’s that thing they always say? He’s sure he’s heard Mickey and Donald and Goofy and hell, Merlin and Yen Side too probably, that the mind may forget, but the heart never will.</p><p>So he’s himself.</p><p>Just… with some extra baggage.</p><p>Sort of.</p><p>As if he needed more of that though, honestly. Between the old memories and the memories he’d lost, the ones he’d been forced to forget—the time spent in Castle Oblivion, the Nobodies he fought, how he never thanked Naminé like he said he would. The original timeline in the fight against Xehanort, before he kind of not-died, but also did die, for the first time and dropping into a dream had been the last chance they had—at least until he got the Power of Waking back and could consider time travel an option (but let’s not get too far into that). Riku’s sacrifice in the Keyblade Graveyard against the Demon Hoard, for <em>him</em>, as if he deserves it. Saving Riku’s heart, one of seven, and he <em>forgot</em>…</p><p>He’d never realized, before, just how much he’d forgotten. How much he’d been forced to forget.</p><p>He can only imagine how everyone else feels. How <em>Riku</em> must feel.)</p><p>It just makes things complicated, because his life can never be simple, Gods. Of course not.</p><p>Except you’d think having two guys who spent thousands of years loving each other—a love that built the Godsdamned universe, come on—as a basis for who they are would somehow make things <em>less</em> complicated. Maybe.</p><p>But Sora knows Riku, and if there’s one thing Sora knows he’s good at—besides being witty and handsome and kind and loyal and a brilliant fighter and, and, and, the list goes on—it’s over thinking things.</p><p>And that’s where Sora comes in. If there’s one thing he wants, more than anything, it’s Riku never doubting his place in Sora’s life again. Ever.</p><p>Been there, done that, have the x-shaped scar over his heart to prove it.</p><p>Because he’s the most important person, the person that matters most, and like hell Sora’s gonna let him think otherwise, damn it.</p><p>But, man, they’ve sure got a lot to talk about.</p><p>(And they’ve never been very good at talking.)</p><p>“Come on,” Riku finally says, hushed.</p><p>“Okay,” Sora whispers back, but doesn’t pull away until he feels the flutter of Riku’ eyelashes against his cheeks.</p><p>There’s a second level, and it takes far less time to explore, exhaustion tugging on his limbs. Even his hair feels droopy with it, agh. There’s just a bathroom and bedroom, a single giant bed taking pride of place in the center.</p><p>“Seems okay to me,” Sora says and collapses face first onto the bed to starfish across it, face mushed into the linen. It feels nice, the comforter thick but strangely airy when he struggles underneath it and out of his damp jacket and pants, tossing the clothes onto the floor haphazardly. The pillow is plump and squishy under his head. Smells clean too—like those candles his mom loves to keep stocked in the kitchen. Sea Breeze. Pink Sand. Stuff like that.</p><p>Riku’s face is one of disturbed disbelief. It’s a look Sora is very well acquainted with.</p><p>“What? We literally came in here to sleep, and I’m not sleeping on the floor.” He pats the side he left open. “Now, are you joining me or not?”</p><p>Riku’s expression melts into something a little more fondly exasperated and he shakes his head, stripping his own jacket and pants off, folding them nice and neat onto the dresser. Agh, he’s too much. The way he tentatively lifts the covers and slips inside, stiff and dumb like Sora’s holding a Keyblade to his head or something, is even worse. What a fucking donut.</p><p>“You’re a fucking donut,” Sora says, because he can, because Riku is and Sora wants to tell him, and he muffles a giggle into his pillow at the frog-mouthed look of sass Riku shoots him.</p><p>Riku rolls his eyes, snuggling into his own pillow until the only thing Sora can see across the expanse of the bed are the curling ends of his hair and a single, inky bright eye. “Why? Cuz I’m so damn sweet?” he asks, voice a low, tired rumble.</p><p>“You really <em>are</em> the sweetest,” he decides around a yawn, ignoring the way Riku’s breath hitches. “Saving me all the time, helping me all the time. Waiting for me. Donut.” Deciding that, perhaps, it would be best to just pretend like everything’s normal—well, as normal as things get for them these days, anyways—Sora shifts until he’s nearly nose to nose to Riku, threading a sweaty hand with one of Riku’s perpetually cold one’s to rest between their chests on the mattress. His cheeks are burning, because yeah, okay, even he’s not unaffected here, but he ignores that too. He curls in on himself and closes his eyes tight, squeezes the hand trapped in his.</p><p>On the cusp of sleep, he feels a responding squeeze.</p><p>Sora smiles and dreams of nothing.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The next time Sora wakes up, it’s still bright out, so he’s not all that sure how much time has passed. But that’s just how this world works, right? Perpetual sunshine, never-ending light and warmth, like Daybreak Town.</p><p>Except for how this <em>is</em> Daybreak Town, technically. Scala ad Caelum is the remains, the phoenix emerged from the ashes of <em>that</em> world, and the Keyblade Graveyard a splintered remnant, flat and dusty where once plants and trees and people and <em>life</em> had flourished… Sora files that tangent away for another time. He’s got bigger fish to fry, namely, the fish snuggled in his arms.</p><p>Riku is still dead to the world. This, in itself, is a rare occurrence. Sora is notorious for oversleeping, and yeah, okay, maybe his friends are right to rag on him as much as they do considering how often it happens (except Donald—that duck has no right at all). Once he’s up, he’s up though, and that, at least, is something he’s got on Riku—mister early-riser, for all that he’s most definitely <em>not</em> a morning person, whether it’s actually morning or not, though he’s definitely pretty adorable.</p><p>Gods, he’s got it bad. How the hell did it take so long for him to notice?</p><p>This makes it all the nicer, then. Riku’s face is mashed into the warm hollow of Sora’s neck, the even pace of his breathing ticklish against his skin. Sora refuses to squirm, to jeopardize this. Instead, he carefully cradles the back of Riku’s head with the hand not trapped and dead asleep under him, combing fingers through the spiked ends of his silver hair. His heart pounds when the man shifts and snuffles, thrilling when he sighs and cuddles closer and settles again.</p><p>Sora really should know better than to celebrate before counting his coconuts.</p><p>Abruptly, Riku stops breathing, shoulders bunching up. “Um—”</p><p>Acting on instinct, Sora latches on, wrapping around him tight, dead arm and legs and all, and shouts, “No!” And yeah, okay, Riku could easily break his hold, or maybe not so easily now that Sora’s got a God’s power pulsing through his veins, but he won’t. Sora knows he won’t.</p><p>And he doesn’t. “Sora?” he grumbles gruffly instead, flailing a little, pushing, pulling, but not <em>really</em> trying to get away. “What the hell are you doing?”</p><p>“Riku,” Sora swallows around the nerves knotting in his throat and takes a deep breath. It’s now or never—or, well, maybe not never because who the fuck knows how long they’ll be around now—but Sora knows, he <em>knows</em>—just like he knew Riku wouldn’t break his hold, like he knew it was Riku on the snowy mountaintop of the Land of Dragons, knew Riku would have his back when they took the Mark of Mastery exam, just like he knows the music their hearts make together and the soft smile Riku only seems to reserve for him—there won’t be another moment for a good, long while if he lets it pass him by, and Sora isn’t one for regrets. “I love you,” he says, and it’s only the second time he’s said it, but it’s the first time to this Riku, to <em>his</em> Riku, and now that he’s said it, he can’t stop. He’s a bucket overflowing, his heart swollen with it, the words tumbling out frantic and full of feeling. “I love you, I love you, I love you, Gods, I love you—” The words hitch on a breath and get stuck, tears stinging his eyes. He sniffles grossly into his pillow, but still he forces the words out again and again.</p><p>Riku’s been a tense bundle in his arms, but he uncurls a bit now, slowly, hesitantly wrapping his arms around Sora’s back to pat, pat, pat, comfortingly, just like when they were kids and Sora’d skinned his knee or bumped his head or any of the other number of stupid, little injuries he collected over the years.</p><p>The words and tears eventually come to a stop and, for a moment, there’s only silence.</p><p>Sora’s tired all over again, face hot and damp, and there’s snot crusting around his nose that he can’t wipe away or risk Riku breaking free and disappearing all over again—Sora would go looking for him of course, but man, he’d be pissed—but still, he refuses to let go. He lets him pull back far enough to look at him though. He’s magnanimous like that.</p><p>And Riku, well Riku looks way more guarded than he’d like, for all that the guy’s face is redder than a Moogle’s nose.</p><p>Well, fuck it. The gates have been opened. The feelings unleashed. No point keeping anything back. Might as well go for broke while he’s at it.</p><p>“Fuck, Riku,” Sora croaks and takes the chance to drag a hand up to cup Riku’s cheek, the skin soft and warm under his palm. “You’re so godsdamned beautiful, you know that?”</p><p>Sora had expected some resistance—because things with Riku are never easy, are <em>always</em> complicated, but fuck if Sora would want to be anywhere else, with anyone else, Riku is more than <em>worth it</em>—but not this.</p><p>Riku’s face shutters closed, losing all expression. A hand comes up to gently disengage Sora’s from his face, but Sora quickly turns it into a desperate grip he refuses to let go. Riku tries to tug his hand free. “Sora—Sora! Let go.”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“What do you mean no?” Another tug, a little more agitated, Sora can feel the strength exerted in the motion, in how Riku <em>almost</em> manages to get free. Riku’s expression falters and twists—he never was very good at keeping a straight face, especially not around Sora. “Sora—stop kidding around.”</p><p>“I’m not kidding around!”</p><p>“Agh.” He grunts in frustration. “Let me go!”</p><p>“No!” And he won’t. He’s suddenly violently, alarmingly afraid that if he does, Riku will disappear forever, go somewhere he can’t follow, and that—that’s Sora’s worst nightmare. Worse even than becoming a puppet to the Darkness. Worse than enclosed spaces and his friends being taken from him—with those types of fears, he knows that if it ever happens, he can still fight back, but losing Riku like this? He’s not so sure of his odds in that. In a fit of desperation, he takes Riku by surprise and flips them over to straddle his waist, to press him into the mattress, hands coming up to brace around Riku’s wrists. “No, Riku. You’re going to sit here, and you’re going to fucking listen to me. I’m serious.”</p><p>Riku’s mouth clamps shut around whatever nonsense he was about to spout. It’s not often that Sora lets himself get like this, all riled up and upset and serious and anxious, determined and stubborn. He has to pick his battles, and this is a battle he aims to win.</p><p>He waits, feels the way Riku breathes deeply beneath him once, twice, before the man relaxes into his grip. His eyes flutter closed for a second before opening, bright and intense.</p><p>“Fine.”</p><p>Sora nods, loosening his hands so they’re just resting against the soft skin of his inner arm. “I know we’ve been through a lot—” he shoots Riku a look when he snorts, “yeah, okay, that’s a bit of an understatement. But, yeah, okay, we’ve been through a lot. So fucking much. But you know what, I wouldn’t have wanted to go through it with anyone else.”</p><p>“Sora—”</p><p>“I said I’m talking here!” Sora huffs. “I would have stayed in the Dark World with you. I’d have been <em>happy</em>, even, because you were there. All I’ve wanted, for so long, Gods, was to just be by your side. Fighting, laughing, traveling the worlds, training. Anything. Everything.” His voice had quieted with every word, but now it’s barely a whisper. “Riku, I want to do everything with you. Always. Forever. I love—”</p><p>“But how can you know?” Riku interrupts.</p><p>“I—”</p><p>“How can you know though? How can you be <em>sure</em>?”</p><p>“Be—” Sora words stutter on a laugh, but it’s an unhappy sound, incredulous, “Because I am, you idiot.”</p><p>“You don’t—just because <em>they</em> were in love, just because they were together, that doesn’t mean we have to be.”</p><p>And something cracks in Sora’s chest, just a little bit. Maybe he was wrong after all. Maybe he really was too late, or maybe, maybe he’d been the only one who felt like this all along. For a moment, he can’t breathe.</p><p>But then, Riku says, head turned to the side, “Don’t feel obligated just to spare my feelings—”</p><p>“Obligated?” Sora hisses out and bears down, slapping his hands to Riku’s face to force his gaze back to him. Don’t look away from me, he wants to say. Never stop looking at me, he almost says. It’s on the tip of his tongue, acidic and possessive. But he doesn’t. Instead, he says, “Riku, loving you could never be an obligation. It’s the best part of me. It’s <em>who I am</em>.”</p><p>“Wha—”</p><p>“It might have taken me longer to notice, but you know me! I’m not—”</p><p>Now it’s Riku’s turn to grab him by the face—Gods, they probably look ridiculous—and he does so with such a fierce expression, stormy and pinched and protective. “Don’t you dare say you’re dumb, Sora.”</p><p>And Sora, well, he can’t help but laugh. Fucking Riku, man. They’re literally in the middle of this, whatever this is, and he’s still playing knight in shining armor, saving Sora from himself. Why does he have to be so damn perfect? “I’m smart in other ways,” Sora amends, and it’s true and he knows it, “But me and, and <em>feelings</em>. I’m dumb about those. And the thing is, Riku—the things is, you’ve been there for me, with me, through <em>everything</em>. I didn’t stand a chance! I’ve been wearing this godsdamned necklace,” and here, he clutches at the silver crown hanging between them, as if either of them could ever forget the night Riku gave it to him, as if they could ever forget Riku’s promise the night of the meter shower, “since you gave it to me when we were five and I refuse to take it off. I <em>haven’t</em> taken it off, ever.” Sora shakes his head, strokes his thumbs, little windshield wipers, across Riku’s cheeks. “My friends are my power, but… but it’s for you that I want to be strong, to stand by your side, to have your back. Gods, I just, you’re my most precious person—how could I <em>not</em> love you?”</p><p>He can feel the way Riku jolts beneath him like he’s been struck. Riku’s thumbs start rubbing gently at his face in return, swipe, swipe, swipe. His expression collapses into something broken and wondering. “Really?” he asks quietly.</p><p>Sora beams. “Of course.”</p><p>And he shouldn’t be surprised, but his heart still skips a beat when Riku pulls him down to press their foreheads together, skin feverish, their connection a bright and thrumming thing between them.</p><p>“Kiss me,” Sora whispers.</p><p>“Yeah, yeah. So demanding.” But he pauses, mouth so close, so fucking close. Sora whines. “Hey, wait, hold on. I just…”</p><p>“Agh, what?”</p><p>Riku smiles, that soft smile reserved just for <em>him</em>. Completely smitten and everything Sora has ever really wanted. For a second, Sora’s worried his heart might just fall right out of his chest and into Riku’s hand. Whatever, it’d be fine. There’s no one else he’d ever trust it with, no one else he’d want to have it. “I love you too.”</p><p>And see, knowing is one thing, but <em>hearing? </em>Sora’s eyes widen and he sputters. “Riku—”</p><p>And Riku, the suave motherfucker, cuts him off with a kiss.</p><p>It’s everything Sora dreamed and lived and wished for—even before he knew he’d been wishing it. It’s warm and gentle and perfectly imperfect. A first kiss, a billionth kiss, a welcome home, an ‘I’m here’ all at once—new and familiar and lovely. Sora wants to live in this moment forever, wants to crawl into Riku’s bones and make a home there the way the other man has made a home in his heart.</p><p>Riku pulls back slightly, eyes clenched closed and overwhelmed, but he’s smiling too despite that. Sora grins, can’t help leaning forward to smear a kiss to the apple of his cheek, to the delicate skin of his eyelid and the slant of his nose, the sharp cut of his jaw, over and over and over, all over his stupidly perfect face—fuck, Sora is lucky—until Riku laughs and pulls him back with a hand curled around his neck, thumb digging wonderfully into the hollow of his skull, lining their mouths up for kisses, quick as winking, the smacking noises loud in the quiet of the room, in the world. On the third or fourth or seventh or fiftieth—fuck if Sora can keep a coherent thought long enough to keep track—the rough skin of their chapped lips catch. He unconsciously licks out and shudders when he tastes the salt still clinging to Riku’s mouth, pushes in closer to chase after it, to get more of it, <em>needs</em> more of it, cutting Riku’s gasp off with his tongue.</p><p>Their kisses turn wet and slick and <em>heated</em>—hitching breaths and sighs and rearranging into a more comfortable position until Riku’s leaning back against the headboard and Sora’s an eager mess in his lap, their noses bumping awkwardly until they pull back just enough, adjust, and come back together again, magnetic—it’s a strange mix of experience and instinct and inexperience, but it’s them, and Sora wouldn’t have it any other way.</p><p>Sora traces his tongue along the sharp cut of Riku’s canines just to hear him huff and nip back. Pulls away long enough to catch his breath, to take the chance to suck down the beautiful, pale line of his neck, scraping his teeth against the sensitive hollow just to see it turn red and hear all the noises Riku can’t help but make, before Riku gets impatient and yanks him back up for a kiss with a hand in his hair. Has his own neck wrecked by tongue and teeth, bruised, because Riku is never one to take anything lying down, not from anyone, but especially not from Sora, and he <em>loves</em> it, loves him and he makes sure he knows it too.</p><p>“I love you, I love you—<em>Gods</em>, do that again,” Sora groans, pressing into Riku’s mouth, gripping those spectacular biceps hard enough to leave some more bruises of his own. Leans into the clenched fist pulling at his shirt, stretching out the v-neck, right over his pounding heart, drags one of his own hands down Riku’s chest just for the chance to feel the way his heart beats a frantic rhythm in perfect counterpoint to Sora’s own.</p><p>Always in harmony, even in this.</p><p>They kiss and kiss and <em>kiss</em>, until their mouths go numb and they taste the same, and they still don’t stop. And in a moment of pure, absolute brilliance, Sora rocks down without even thinking about it, and they both <em>moan </em>at the friction, at the growing need swelling between them—</p><p>There’s a loud crack.</p><p>They flail apart, Keyblades jumping into hand without thought.</p><p>Sora looks around frantically, heart pounding for a whole different reason, and when his gaze falls on the culprit, he laughs so hard he almost cries.</p><p>They’d split the dresser.</p><p>
  <em>In half.</em>
</p><p>“Gonna have to work on that,” Riku says, and he’s clearly embarrassed as he dismisses Nightmare’s End, but Sora can see the way amusement lights up the teal in his eyes, the quirk of his mouth.</p><p>“We’ll have plenty of time.” Mirage Split disappears easily enough, and Sora collapses back onto the bed and makes grabby hands at Riku, needy. “Now, come back here, mister.”</p><p>Riku grins and barely even hesitates to flop unceremoniously into Sora’s arms. Sora can’t wait to get to the point where there’s no hesitation at all. With the way things are going, it’ll take no time at all.</p><p>“Oof—fuck Riku, when did you get so heavy?”</p><p>“Are you calling me fat?” Riku asks, rolling over enough so Sora can breathe easier, propping himself up on a hand to smirk down at him, all magnanimous like—and yeah, okay, sure. There’s a reason why, under normal circumstances, most of their teasing devolves into wrestling matches, but this is special, damn it.</p><p>Still, he guesses there’s something to be said for being predictable. And a little wrestling might make things interesting. Why not? “You said it, not me.”</p><p>“Oh, fuck you, Sora.” And he can feel the way Riku’s weight is shifting, how his muscles are bunching, and well, sure, they could wrestle, but Sora’s also never really had much shame when it comes to things he wants, and Riku is just so easy to fluster.</p><p>“Yes, please,” he says back, completely sincere but with an over-exaggerated eyebrow wiggle.</p><p>Riku groans and flops off him, clapping his hands over his eyes. His face is all red again, and Sora muffles a giggle into his shoulder. “Gods, Sora. Do you even think about the stuff that comes out of your mouth?”</p><p>“Sometimes.” Sora shrugs.</p><p>Riku sighs, looking utterly, perfectly debauched, and Sora did that.</p><p><em>I did that</em>, he thinks gleefully. I can <em>keep</em> doing that. “Now, where were we? Ah, yes, I think you were about to kiss me again.”</p><p>Riku snorts. “I was, huh?” But he rolls back over and melts into Sora easily, his body a warm, welcome weight against Sora, not heavy at all. He brushes soft kisses against the corner of his mouth, the bow of his upper lip, the dip beneath his bottom one, with no signs of stopping, the jerk, until Sora decides enough is enough and chases him to get his mouth on him good and proper and perfect. Sora hums into the kiss, content, happy—Gods, so happy—and feels an answering rumble in Riku’s chest.</p><p>He can’t stop the laugh, giddy and exhilarated and feeling so full of love, from bubbling up to break the kiss, but that’s okay, everything’s okay, everything’s <em>amazing</em>—they have all the time in the worlds now.</p><p>And what a wonderful thought that is.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Gods, you guys really are pathetic,” a voice suddenly drawls darkly from the foot of their bed, waking them from the warm, cuddled sleep they’d fallen into.</p><p>Sora flails out from under the protective huddle Riku had curled into to squint up at the intruder. That voice sounded familiar—</p><p>“Vanitas!” Riku shouts into the bedding, eyes clenched closed and cranky.</p><p>“Vanitas?” Sora whips his head between the two of them, wondering if he should be drawing his Keyblade or maybe putting on pants at least, not that it really matters to him (or Riku, really—neither of them are particularly stuffy in that regard. You can’t live on a blistering hot island without getting used to various states of undress)—he doesn’t know if he should be glad they stopped at kissing earlier (saves them the embarrassment now) or annoyed that there probably won’t be too much kissing in their immediate future (and see, Sora <em>wants, </em>damn it), with the way things are looking.</p><p>Last he’d heard, Vanitas was still one with the Darkness or whatever, hellbent on destroying everything even remotely in his way just to get to Ventus. Sora takes his cue from Riku—he’s missed a year, Riku had said, when things had finally calmed down a bit between them before they fell asleep again. Who knows what’s happened in his absence. All he <em>does </em>know is it’s weird to see a guy with a face so similar to his own, though, maybe not as weird as he’d have thought before, all things considered—who’s only moved to drag a pillow over his head and groan in annoyance at being woken up. What a big baby. Sora pats the hand clenched in the pillow until it loosens and the man finally pokes his head back out, hair sticking up everywhere.</p><p>“Go away,” he bites out.</p><p>“Fuck, man.” Vanitas rolls his eyes—and oh, they’re <em>brown</em> now, huh, maybe things really <em>have</em> changed—so hard Sora’s worried they might spin right out of his head, pulling out his very own Gummiphone, all black and red and shiny. “I found your idiots,” he says before whoever it is on the other end can respond. “They’ve been canoodling in some dead person’s bed.”</p><p>“Hey!”</p><p>“Oh, good!” a tiny voice says, clearly relieved and very recognizable—</p><p>“Ventus!”</p><p>With a look of pure, unadulterated irritation, Vanitas flips the Gummiphone around to face them without even being asked, and yes, there’s Ventus, grinning and waving at them from the screen.</p><p>“Your eyes!” Sora says, because hell, he really <em>has</em> missed all sorts of stuff, hasn’t he? This is news to him and he’s never been very good at keeping his mouth shut when it comes to noticing differences like this. He lacks tact, is what his mom always said. There’s a time and a place to ask about these kinds of things, is something else she used to say. But, what, he’s curious. Did everyone get a new eye color while he was gone? He hopes it’s a good thing. “Looks good?” he tentatively offers.</p><p>Ventus laughs, bashfully brushing a hand along his temple. “Yeah, thanks.” His expression sobers, brows drawing together. “I’m so glad you’re okay, Sora.”</p><p>Sora blinks, then smiles. “It’s all thanks to Riku here.” And he pets Riku’s cheek just to watch his grumpy pout transform into something embarrassed and pleased.</p><p>Vanitas makes a gagging noise and says snidely, “Took you long enough, <em>Master Riku</em>. You’ve been gone for two months.”</p><p>“Shit.” Riku shoots up, nearly knocking his head into Sora’s. It’s only their combined reflexes that save them. Riku jumps out of bed and makes quick work of putting on the clothes he’d discarded before, serious and all business and graceful as hell. It makes Sora’s mouth go a little dry to see. There’s always been something about seeing Riku like this that’s almost as attractive as catching glimpses of glorious skin or watching him get all flustered.</p><p>“Two months?” Sora finally stumbles out of bed himself and pulls on his pants, not even phased at the stiffness of the fabric, the rough scrape of the salt and sand that’s dried in them.</p><p>“That’s what I fucking said.”</p><p>“And that’s not all,” Ventus says, looking apologetic. “You guys have missed a lot.”</p><p>Sora shares a look with Riku, sees the way Riku’s mouth is a red smear on his face from too many (not enough) kisses, how his hair is all spiked and curling at the edges from the pillow and Sora’s hands running through it, the inky brightness of his eyes, and dedicates it all to memory. Knows Riku’s doing the same.</p><p>Their work is never done, it seems. Who knows when they’ll next get a moment to even breathe?</p><p>“Catch us up,” Riku finally says and bumps Sora’s shoulder with his. Sora nods decisively. Whatever happens, whatever comes their way, they’re in this together.</p><p>Just like it should be.</p><p>Vanitas smirks, vicious. “Come on, you fucking losers. We’ve got work to do.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>There might be one more part after this. I technically have a title and everything, I just would need to write it. Who knows? I'm not saying anything either way this time lol I've learned my lesson.</p><p>Thank you for reading! Stay safe and healthy, y'all!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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